


Countdown to Midnight

by DanaiaCake



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Implied Matsukawa Issei/Hanamaki Takahiro, Iwaizumi's Proposal, Light Angst, M/M, Married Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Not Beta Read, Or maybe Heavy Angst, Post-Canon, Sorry Not Sorry, depends on your definition
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-21
Updated: 2016-11-21
Packaged: 2018-09-01 08:00:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8616013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DanaiaCake/pseuds/DanaiaCake
Summary: A look into the two separate nights Iwaizumi proposed to Oikawa.*This should have been perfect for New Year but I'm an impatient piece of shit. Sorry.





	

**Author's Note:**

> My second IwaOi fic and I'm already loving writing about my OTP. <3 I hope you enjoy (???) this one, too. Please do note that timeline would confuse you at first, but trust me because it would make sense once you finished everything. :)
> 
> As always, Kuddos and Comments are more than appreciated. :)

_**3 Hours Before Midnight** _

Iwaizumi Hajime was feeling restless tonight. 

He shifted on his swivel chair, its hinges creaking loudly under his weight, breaking the silence which has long settled in the empty floor of his office. He glanced for the nth time that night on the huge LED clock on the wall right above his desk--its red ominous numbers were blinking at him mockingly, counting down the minutes like a ticking time bomb.

Save for himself, their department went home early for the holiday vacation which was exactly the reason why he stayed behind. Given a choice, he would have gone home, too, except he still has one more report due tomorrow. Meaning he had to finish and send it to their clients tonight before going home. It didn’t help that his assistant and secretary, Hitoka Yachi had gone down with the flu so he alone, had to do tasks designed for two people.

_ No use complaining now, though. _ He sighed and turned his attention back to the document he had been typing for the past hour. Rubbing his eyes furiously to help him focus, he picked up his mug of  _ now  _ cold coffee and took a sip of the vile sweetness now coating his tongue. 

He hates coffee--or at least, coffee he made for himself, because for some unknown, mysterious reason, he couldn’t quite create the perfect blend suited for his taste and whenever he tries, it always comes out either too sweet or too bitter.

But he drank it anyway because he needed coffee to stay awake and needed the sugar for extra energy to keep his mind active.

He was so focused in his work that he didn’t notice his former teammate and now co-worker, Matsukawa Issei walking towards his desk with a sly grin on his face. Only when he spoke did Iwaizumi realize he wasn’t alone, “Yoh, Iwaizumi.”

Matsukawa was leaning forward his desk, looking down at his work, like a supervisor. Iwaizumi stopped himself from slamming his laptop down and throwing a nasty glare at the man who merely pulled away and shook his head disapprovingly, “Always the workaholic.”

Iwaizumi snorted at the man, noticing the disheveled state of his suit--which Iwaizumi was sure he had seen the man wear three days ago, except three days ago, the yellowish fabric was crisp and clean. He knew full well that if there was one person in their office who always pushed himself harder than usual when it comes to work, save for himself, that would be Matsukawa.

He would have retorted that right away, except banters with his former teammate usually go forever so instead, he just went straight to the issue, “What do you want?” he asked rubbing his temples with the tips of his fingers and closing his tired eyes. 

It wasn’t like for Matsukawa to drop by the finance department as the IT department which the man was a part of never runs out of things to do--enough that they even rarely get to meet or talk during office hours even when they work particularly in the same building and under the same company, so this was actually a bit  _ surprising _ for him. 

Matsukawa hummed in response, swinging his legs on the corner of Iwaizumi’s desk until he was half sitting and half leaning against it. He did this, instead of sitting on the empty chair in front of him like a normal, decent human being. He gave Iwaizumi a nonchalant smile, “Makki told me.”

“Told you what?” Iwaizumi opened his eyes, regretting it immediately when he saw the grin plastered on his old teammate’s face. It only took a second to put two on two together. _Makki saw him by accident when he bought it. And even when Iwaizumi made him swear never to tell a soul, for Makki, Matsukawa didn’t count as an actual ‘soul’._

He faced the middle blocker’s knowing grin and cursed internally because somehow, the look Matsukawa was giving him reminded him of the look he makes back in high school when he had effectively shut down one of Iwaizumi’s spikes. Now, more than ever, he hated that look. Nevertheless, he didn’t have time for games. He sighed, “You and your boyfriend should really stop snooping into other people’s businesses.” 

“Hey, I was just curious!” Matsukawa exclaimed defensively but the soft chuckle that followed the weak excuse effectively disproved his claim at innocence. Iwaizumi rubbed at his temples again and shook his head, “Is that all you need? Because I really should get back to work now.” He glanced at the clock once again and realized he wasted at least a good five minutes talking so he turned back to his laptop and started typing again, all while doing mental calculations on how fast he was working and how soon he would be able to finish.

“So it’s true, huh?” Of course, Matsukawa wouldn’t leave without directly asking it,  _ would he? _ To be honest, Iwaizumi didn’t mind telling him the truth if it meant he’d go away and leave him alone to finish his work as soon as he got it.

“Yeah.” He answered a little too quickly; tone a little too casually, he regretted it immediately when he earned a look of disbelief from man before he actually groaned aloud in  _ frustration _ , “Oh man! Are you serious about this?”

Iwaizumi frowned at the look of despair on his old friend’s face because though his decision wasn’t really a  _ popular _ one, he didn’t expect it to come from the man who he considers to be one of his good friends--despite being annoyingly meddlesome at times. Matsukawa, noticing his confused expression offered a quick explanation, “Makki and I made a bet.”

_ A bet.  _ That single word made Iwaizumi feel a heat of anger starting to build up at the base of his neck, immediately realizing what Matsukawa was implying, before he even finished speaking.  _ Oh, if looks could only kill, the ex-middle blocker would be a bloody pulp by now _ , “What the fuck’s the problem with you two?!” He snapped angrily, work completely forgotten, slamming his closed fists on the table as he glared at his former teammate. Sensing imminent danger, Matsukawa leapt from his comfortable seat on Iwaizumi’s table and backed off a few steps.

“Hey! None of us betted against the two of you! We both know you would end up together. I mean, it’s quite impossible not to.” Matsukawa exclaimed defensively putting his hands in front of him, palms ready to push Iwaizumi away if the latter resorted to violence, “We were betting on your ages when you decide to do it.”

_ Didn’t make it any better _ . Iwaizumi was about to stand up from his seat, grab Matsukawa by the collar and tell him to  _ fucking  _ mind his own business when he noticed the clock again.  _ Ugh. Now, I wasted 10 minutes in that useless conversation _ . And the only thing he learned was his friends betting on his lovelife. He managed to calm himself down with deep breaths and the reminder that if he wasted his time in this, he’d probably be later than he already was.

“Just… fucking go.” He hissed, settling back down on his seat and opening the document he had been working on. He wished Matsukawa would leave now, not caring if it was because he was already satisfied with the information he got or out of fear that Iwaizumi would actually hit him. But he didn’t.

“So, you’re really doing it, huh?” the leer in his voice and his face was gone now and Iwaizumi could swear there was even a sort of happiness showing on that usually bored face. It was actually surprising, but it didn’t make the initial rift they had any better. He was still pissed.

“Yes.” he replied flatly.

Matsukawa snorted again, putting his hands inside his pockets as he regarded Iwaizumi with a curious smile which Iwaizumi could tell actually looked quite sincere, “Tonight?”

“Tonight.” He responded, not even looking up from his laptop. Finally…  _ Finally,  _ he heard him sigh, “Well, good luck, then.” Matsukawa began walking back to the hallway where the elevators were, however, he paused by the door of their office’s department to give Iwaizumi a meaningful look. He shook his head and an amused smile stretched his usually pouty mouth, “I still can’t believe you’d really, actually marry  _ The Great Oikawa Tooru _ .”

_ And there it was. The real source of his stress tonight. The root of all the tension building inside him, brewing like hot coffee, ready to spill over at a mere tip of the cup _ . He wasn’t thinking about it the entire day-- _ okay, that probably wasn’t true-- _ but he managed to avoid thinking about it by drowning himself with work, refusing to acknowledge that tonight, he would be proposing to the official setter of the national Japanese team, his insufferable best friend from childhood until college and his boyfriend for the remainder of those years until now,  _ Oikawa Tooru _ . 

“If he’d say yes.” He grumbled nervously, instinctively reaching out on his pant’s side pocket, feeling the smooth, solidity of the box under the rough fabric of his jeans.

“You’re shitting me, right?” Matsukawa chuckled, “Ever since high school, Makki and I had to endure watching you two constantly fight and flirt with each other, we actually began having nightmares of it. It was terrible.”

“...” He didn’t answer and the look of surprise on his friend’s face was almost hillarious.

“Listen, Iwaizumi. Oikawa had always been  _ Iwa-chan this _ and  _ Iwa-chan that _ , it’s actually pretty disgusting already.” Matsukawa shuddered as if he remembered something so incredibly cringe-worthy, but decided to just continue, “So you’re pretty damn naive if you think for a second that he would decline your proposal.”

Iwaizumi didn’t expect a pep talk like that, especially coming from Matsukawa who left after sending a final good luck. But he thought, that’s what time and aging up does to everyone.

Matsukawa, as well as the rest of his old teammates became successful in their own chosen fields and more or less had crossed path with each other at some point. Only Oikawa pursued volleyball as an actual career, the rest of them settling into the boring and sometimes fulfilling world of corporate. They would meet every now and then despite their busy schedules, all of them celebrating each other’s victories-- _ promotions, games won, projects finished.  _ Somehow, they became like a real family and he was proud of how their team had grown definitely old but had definitely not grown apart, all thanks to one man’s effort…  _ Oikawa. _

The man-child who’s probably already sulking in their apartment because Iwaizumi couldn’t come pick him up at the airport like he always wanted whenever he went somewhere, like an old couple tradition. He came home from Poland where Japan’s national team competed for the qualifiers…  _ and well, brilliantly lost against Brazil.  _ Iwaizumi knew he probably also had to deal with that when he got home.

Apart from being the finance manager of a huge internationally acclaimed advertising agency, Iwaizumi always had the lingering feeling that he was babysitting an overgrown child who simply refused to grow up. To be fair, Oikawa usually wouldn’t make a big fuss about things like these especially if it involved his work, but there were times like this, when Oikawa was exhausted and frustrated at the same time he becomes extra grumpy and extra clingy and only Iwaizumi’s constant presence could pacify him. 

As if on cue, his cellphone buzzed to life, Oikawa’s face flashing on the screen with an incoming call. Iwaizumi took his time before answering it, admiring the setter’s pretty face on his phone. It was a selfie he took the day before he went to Poland two months ago. In the photo, Oikawa’s face didn’t have that annoying smile he was always giving his fans whenever they wanted a photo with him taken. Instead, the smile was one that he reserved especially for Iwaizumi--brown eyes wide like a doe’s; lips pulled into the smallest, faintest, barely there smile. Iwaizumi loved this smile because it showed the vulnerable side- _ the real side _ \--of Oikawa. One, that only he was allowed to see. _ God, he couldn’t wait to get home and actually be able to call that smile and everything about Tooru his own.  _

He picked up the phone, “Tooru.”

“Iwa-chaaan...” Oikawa whined and Iwaizumi held his breath. He felt pathetic feeling excited with the way Oikawa called his name because  _ weren’t they always talking even when Oikawa left? _ In spite of the time difference and really toxic schedule of each, the two of them never failed to talk via phone or over Skype even for a mere five minutes, just to update on what’s happening--Oikawa, mostly on training.  _ Of course, the daily calls also involved rants about the wing spiker Ushijima Wakatoshi, who was also part of the national team. _

“What is it, Tooru?” He asked, not really wanting to sound as annoyed as he did but his nerves got the better of him and his voice came out rough and hurried. He could hear the pout on Oikawa’s voice when he said, “Are you still in the office? I’m really bored right now.” It would have worked, but Iwaizumi could easily read through that tone and could easily understand what that really meant:  _ I’m lonely. Just come home, soon _ .

Iwaizumi wondered why any of them even tried faking their words when they could read each other perfectly and inconveniently well. They had been together all their lives, except that time when the two of them went to two different universities, met a lot of people-- _ and by that, he meant dated, although he only dated at least two girls back then, while Oikawa--well, surprisingly didn’t date anyone. _

“I’m just finishing a report. But I think I’ll be home in an hour. Do you want me to buy you anything?”

Instead of a response, Oikawa yawned softly before answering, “Alright. But can you go home sooner? I’m really exhausted and I can’t sleep without you.” A smile crawled to Iwaizumi’s face upon hearing that because he knew Oikawa was of course, exaggerating. But for acting such a big man-child that he is, Iwaizumi had to admit that he likes Oikawa needing him just as much as he did.

“I’ll try.” He said.

 

\---

_**2 Hours Before Midnight** _

Iwaizumi barely caught the last train, only managing to not miss it when he squeezed himself through the closing door after jumping over the train platform. It was dangerous and quite rude, but the people already inside the train gave him tired and sympathetic smiles and he figured that just like him, these people also got stuck in work and had to go home late for the holiday.

He took the seat nearest the door where he came in, slinging his jacket over his shoulder and loosening his collar to allow more air to fill his aching lungs. The air outside the station was thick and cold and he let his lungs enjoy the warm air inside the train.

He glanced at his watch and heaved a sigh of relief when he realized that he was just right on time--actually, he still has a bit of time to drop by Oikawa’s favorite 24-hour bakeshop near the station to buy some of his favorite milk bread. He’d probably just do that because tonight is a night they should celebrate.

He looked out the window, now covered in a tiny sheet of rain and snow making the beautiful city lights of Tokyo hazy and glittery, and suddenly he felt homesick. Tokyo is a beautiful city, Iwaizumi had to admit that, it was home to him now after spending at least seven years in the city, but Miyagi would always hold a special place in his heart. That is where he and Oikawa met and grew up. He vowed to go home one of these days with Oikawa, probably even spend a summer there. He had many leave credits which he hasn’t used ever since he started working.

It only took fifteen minutes before Iwaizumi arrived at his stop. He slipped back into his jacket, pulling it close to his body as the cold nipped on the exposed skin of his face the moment he was out of the street and away from the station’s welcoming heat. 

It took another ten minutes of walking down the busy streets of Fuchu to arrive at the bakeshop where the shop owner, Irumi-san who knew him by heart motioned him to come forward even when there was a long line of people, huddling together for warmth. Iwaizumi shook his head as he took his place at the end of the line, but the kind-hearted old woman insisted and he had no choice but to approach her.

“Iwaizumi-san.” She said, her old face jolly and warm which was a direct contrast to the cold weather outside the well-lit shop, “Are you going to buy the usual?”

Iwaizumi nodded, still embarrassed to be cutting the line even when it was the shop owner who insisted. She smiled approvingly at him, “I knew it. Here, I already prepared it in advance.” She picked up a freshly packed paper bag on the table behind her and placed it on Iwaizumi’s hand. He gratefully accepted, digging in his pocket for his wallet to pay.

“How about some cake?” Irumi-san suggested fondly. Iwaizumi surveyed the cakes on the display cabinet and pondered if he should. He’s not really fond of sweets but Oikawa loves them and tonight is indeed a special occasion. He gave a small smile, “I guess it wouldn’t hurt.”

Irumi-san looked pleased. Iwaizumi admitted he doesn’t know anything about cakes so he let the woman pick the cake for him. He trusted her because she also knew Oikawa like her own son-- _ wasn’t it Oikawa who initially took him to this place, anyway and introduced him to her? _ In the end, he bought a strawberries and cream cake decorated lovingly for the holiday.

He said his thanks and went on his way but not until Irumi-san called out to him to give his regards to  _ Tooru-kun. _

 

\---

_**1 Hour Before Midnight** _

The lights were already off when Iwaizumi pushed the door open to the two-bedroom apartment he had shared with Oikawa in an apartment complex down at Fuchu. They moved here two months after graduating from their respective universities and figured that they have spent many years basically mooching off of each other’s resources so they might as well just move in together.

Of course, he didn’t hear the end of it from Matsukawa and Hanamaki, but Iwaizumi thought that living with his best friend, back then, was only logical. They didn’t see each other that much with their schedules almost not matching the other’s. But at least, they developed a system to coexist which usually consists of Iwaizumi cooking for the two of them, refrigerating it for Oikawa to consume later and Oikawa doing most of the laundry. Besides, having someone to share the rent was economical.

During that time, everything about them was normal--they were friends living together, respecting each other’s boundaries and living in their own bedrooms, with occasional social conversations exclusively placed in their living room or dining room--if they were lucky to eat meals together _. _ There were no written rules in their domain--both of them knew exactly what was acceptable and what was not. 

Iwaizumi once brought a girl home--a girl he dated for a few months, nothing serious anyway. He thought it was only normal, he thought he could sneak her in and out without Oikawa knowing, although he wondered why he had to sneak her in when this was also his house. But Oikawa saw them and he in return, saw how much it affected the setter. He continued dating her, but stopped bringing her. The relationship lasted another month before they amicably broke it off. Oikawa never brought anyone home.

Back then, he was totally clueless how his then best friend felt about him. Blame it on his thick-headedness but he was completely oblivious about how Oikawa felt. He only learned about it one drunken night--he wasn’t sure what it was, probably Hanamaki’s surprise birthday party that they graciously hosted being the only people in their group who rents an apartment of their own (most of their friends live in dormitories)-- when the two of them got too drunk to finally cross that metaphorical line they didn’t knew existed in their friendship.

Since then, the second bedroom became a storage room of all of Oikawa’s trophies and medals as well as Iwaizumi’s hundreds of books and awards.

He called out “I’m home!” softly, making sure it wasn’t loud enough to wake the guy if ever he was already asleep. He flicked on the lights through the switch by the door and it took a few tries before the light turned on. He sighed, thinking he really had to do something about that on his next day off. That--or they seriously need to move somewhere else.

Of course, Oikawa wouldn’t agree to that--saying this place was memorable for the two of them, that every nook and corner of this place is filled with memories of the two of them and their friends. He was sentimental that way, but Iwaizumi is afraid the place was too old and too cramped for them. Even Matsukawa and Hanamaki bought a new apartment in downtown Shibuya which provided easier access for his daily commute. He vowed to talk to Oikawa about this,  _ again. _ But probably, not tonight.

He carefully toed off his shoes and placed them on the shoe rack by the door _. _ He slipped out of his jacket, unceremoniously dropping them in a pile by the  _ engawa _ as he sauntered towards their apartment. It had a homey, warm, toasty smell which reminded him of cinnamon--something that wasn’t there for the past two months and he figured it was because Oikawa wasn’t there.

Though all the lights were out, save for the one he just turned on, the television was still on, its flashing lights almost looking like a beacon calling out to him. There were no sounds however and he smiled because he knew Oikawa always had the habit of watching television with muted sounds on nights when sleep was rare. It was a weird quirk Iwaizumi had learned to integrate in his nighttime habits and whenever Oikawa wasn’t home, he would find himself doing the same.

As expected, he found Oikawa lying in the sofa on his side, a blanket strewn carelessly over his legs, pillows stacked together to form a sort of fort around him. From the flashing lights of the television screen, he could see Oikawa’s sleeping face--a gentle, almost angelic expression devoid of any cruel smirk, pouty scowl and other expressions the setter carefully crafted to perfection to get what he wants in almost any other circumstances.

Iwaizumi could also vaguely make out the familiar design of his grey hoodie which Oikawa most definitely stole from his closet. It was too big for him, the neckline too wide the material slipped from his shoulders, the hem piling just above his waist, revealing the soft cotton boxers underneath. 

Iwaizumi took a deep breath, taking in the view before him, not believing that this beautiful person, soon would be legally his.  _ At least, if Oikawa accepted. _ He removed the negative thought out of his mind and tried to recall what Matsukawa told him.  _ Of course, Oikawa would accept. They love each other. _

 

\---

_**30 Minutes Before Midnight** _

Iwaizumi brushed the back of his hand over Oikawa’s cheek in a featherlight touch and he watched the pretty face stir back to life. The brown eyes which met his were bleary from sleep but when he met them, he was rewarded by the slightest twinkle.

Oikawa gave a slow, small smile and Iwaizumi’s breath caught in his throat.  _ It doesn’t matter how long they’ve been together, Oikawa always, always leaves him breathless. _

“Iwa-chan.” His voice was dry and raspy and Iwaizumi was sure it must have hurt talking. But there was no way he’d grow tired hearing that voice regardless of the circumstance.  _ God, he’s hopeless. _

“Sorry for waking you up.”  _ He wasn’t. _

Oikawa pouted, “No you’re not.” he tilted his head up in an awful attempt to reach for Iwaizumi’s lips and the latter knew this was just Oikawa’s usual lousy excuse for Iwaizumi to lean down and seal their lips together-- _ which he totally did. _

Placing his hand under Oikawa’s chin, Iwaizumi tilted his head up to capture his lips which were dry and cold, but soft. His breath short and warm and Iwaizumi inhaled the smell of cinnamon which was Oikawa’s signature scent-- _ because it smelled like Christmas, he would reason out. _ He pulled away when he notices the unusual shortness of Oikawa’s breath and looked at him closely.

Under the yellow light of the bedside lamp, he could see the pinkish hue tinted his cheeks but otherwise, he couldn’t help but notice how pale Oikawa had become--his skin almost matched the white flimsy sheets he was wrapped in. His usually plump cheeks were also taut until he could already make out the lines of his cheekbones and his jaws. He didn’t notice this before, and a sense of dread washed over him at the realization. Oikawa, noticing his distress beamed at him before whispering, “I’m hungry.”

Iwaizumi couldn’t help but smile as he presented the paper bag of milk bread and the box of cake to the guy who pushed himself from the bed to sit down and assess what he bought. Iwaizumi helped him up by placing some of the fluffy pillows on his back. When he saw the box of cake, Oikawa gave Iwaizumi a quizzical look, “Don’t you hate sweets?”

Iwaizumi shrugged, opening the box and taking some paper plates from the discarded bag as well as some plastic utensils, “Yes. But you don't."

“Oh, so you bought it for me?” Oikawa raised a brow at that, “Are you cheating on me? Is this some kind of making up for the guilt you’re feeling?”

Iwaizumi frowned, flicking the guy’s forehead in annoyance, “Shut up,  _ Shittykawa. _ I am not cheating. You provide me enough trouble as it is.” 

Oikawa hummed, pleased of his response, Iwaizumi wanted to roll his eyes but he focused on cutting the cake. He placed the cut slice on a plate and handed it to Oikawa whose eyes were twinkling brightly.  _ Like a grown-ass kid. _

He was about to settle on the seat across the bed, when he heard Oikawa mutter, “I know you wouldn’t cheat on me.” This time, he really did roll his eyes, especially when Oikawa said, “You’re too in love with me.”

_ And damn it, he was right. _

 

\---

Seeing Oikawa finally in their home after two long months was enough for Iwaizumi to lose his control. He motioned for Oikawa to move, which he did, and scooted beside him. Draping his arm around Oikawa’s shoulders, the latter automatically moved to place his head on Iwaizumi’s chest, snuggling close Iwaizumi suddenly became aware he hasn’t showered yet.

“I stink.” He said but Oikawa hummed in response, snuggling closer, putting his legs over Iwaizumi’s so he was half-sitting on his lap. “You don’t.” He said in a muffled voice, burying his face more on Iwaizumi’s chest.

“Seriously,  _ Shittykawa.  _ Let me shower first.” Iwaizumi was getting really embarrassed. He knew he didn’t really stink, but he smelled like the entire day’s sweat.

“You smell nice.” Oikawa insisted, “You smell like Iwa-chan.”

“Now you’re not making any sense.” He sighed because he knew this was a pointless conversation--Oikawa was in his clingy mood and when he’s in that mood, there was no way Iwaizumi would be able to talk him out of letting him go.  _ Not that he doesn’t fully enjoy these moments, anyway.  _

As always, he lost to Oikawa even before the battle had begun. Sighing deeply, Iwaizumi put his arms around Oikawa’s body, holding him closer-- _ sweaty shirt be damned! _ Oikawa felt fragile in his arms, and yet he knew that Oikawa was anything but fragile. He was a strong, capable athlete Iwaizumi couldn’t be more proud of, but when it comes to Iwaizumi, he was vulnerable, and fragile and just…  _ beautiful. _

There was a comfortable silence between them and Iwaizumi noted fondly how the two of them didn’t need words to communicate. They had always been at home in each other’s company, content with listening to the beating of their hearts, their slow breaths syncing with each other’s.

_ “Hajime…” _ His name fell out of Oikawa’s lips and it almost sounded like a plea. When he looked down at the man on his chest, he was met with brown eyes--wide like an owl’s, pupils big and dark enough for one to drown into.  _ And he wanted nothing more than to do so. _

He felt all the blood rush to his face, felt the pounding in his chest double it almost bordered pain. It was like being hypnotized, and all of sudden he found himself speaking the words he was both prepared and unprepared to say, “Let’s get married.”

A confusion crossed Oikawa’s face, the eyes slightly narrowing as he tried to process what Iwaizumi just said--and those few seconds felt like forever as a sort of enlightenment crossed over Oikawa’s face, and despite the dim light coming from the television, he saw how Oikawa’s face flushed red all over until even the tips of his ears were beet red.  _ It was fucking beautiful. _

The silence stretched and Iwaizumi’s mind was already thinking of the worst possible scenarios that could happen. But his mind was begging,  _ Please say yes. Please say yes. _ Oikawa slowly retracted himself wordlessly, averting his gaze and just like that, Iwaizumi’s heart sank.  _ Fuck you, Mattsun. You definitely jinxed this. Or maybe, he read wrong into their relationship. Maybe they were not ready. Maybe, he should have waited a few more years. _

He swallowed hard, realizing that for the first time after a long time, he was already close to crying. He wondered if he could still pass it off as a joke, but also knew doing that would only further the damage he has already done.  _ Great, just great. _

“I’m free tomorrow.” Oikawa said, turning back to him, brown eyes glazed and Iwaizumi blinked at him confused, “I’m free the next day, too. And the next. And the next.” Oikawa’s face blossomed into the sweetest, purest smile he had ever seen, “But you need to give me a ring.”

Iwaizumi gaped at Oikawa, feeling the hard solidity of the box on his back pocket. He reached out to take it out and present it to his fianc é, feeling his heart burst with so much happiness. He didn’t know that too much happiness actually hurts.

 

\---

 

Iwaizumi held Oikawa’s hand in his strong ones, noticing how thin and frail it had become, the white gold band-- _ their wedding ring-- _ slip with the slightest movement. He squeezed the man’s hand, letting his matching pair clink and make a small sound enough to remind him that he’s still here-- _ Still here. _

He closed his eyes, feeling Oikawa’s pulse rate on his hand and he counted it out like how he counted the minutes of the ticking clock in the hospital room. The bedside lamp casted an orange light on Oikawa’s feeble body giving the illusion that he was actually glowing, when in reality, his skin had gone grey and dry from all the medicine his body had taken, rejected and absorbed.

It happened two years ago. Two years ago, on their wedding eve, Oikawa complained about a terrible migraine that wouldn’t go away. They had it checked the next day, hoping it was nothing serious. But they were called in for a couple more tests and after another week of waiting, it was confirmed.

_ It was a tumor. In his head. _

Iwaizumi didn’t know what was more painful to watch, by then. Seeing the love of his life suffer through excruciating pain or to know that he could do nothing about it. He felt completely useless, because he knew that it didn’t matter how many check-ups, how many tests, how many hospital visits he went together with Oikawa, this was a battle he would fight on his own.

“Iwa-chan?” Oikawa was smiling at him and Iwaizumi looked up at him, eyes bleary with unshed tears which he stopped from falling because he promised himself he would never cry in front of this man-- _ his husband _ .

“Do you need anything?” He asked, returning the smile as best as he could.

Oikawa nodded, “Can you open the window?” Iwaizumi nodded, briefly letting go of Oikawa’s hand and walking towards the nearby window, raising the blinds and pushing it open. The winter breeze rushed inside, flooding the heated room with a coldness that seemed to seep even to his bones. But Oikawa smiled at him and he knew he just had to endure it a bit for his sake.

With the wind, came the jolly noises from the people converging just outside the hospital, waiting for the last minutes of the year to pass. He went back to Oikawa’s bed and the guy motioned for him to lay down beside him. The bed was meant for one person only, but it was big enough to accommodate his bulk and Oikawa’s frail body-- _ he notes the last one with much sadness. _

He laid down beside Oikawa, wrapping his arms around his husband’s body from behind. He placed his chin on Oikawa’s shoulder as the two of them looked out the window. Slowly, Oikawa moved to intertwine their fingers together and when their hands settled into the perfect fit they were accustomed to, Iwaizumi’s heart ached. 

Amidst the noise outside, the  _ painful, knowing  _ silence between them enveloped them in a cocoon of raw emotions. He breathed in Oikawa’s scent, the familiar cinnamon laced with the bitter, strong smell of disinfectant.

Nobody spoke another word, until finally, the incoherent noises outside converged into a singular chant of numbers. The noises getting louder and louder…

**_5…_ **

_Oikawa gripped his hand tighter._  The doctor told them he only had a year to live. Oikawa, being Oikawa, wanted to prove him wrong. He gripped on Iwaizumi's hand like it was the only thing he could believe in. That it was the only thing that mattered, and Iwaizumi was half sure that at that moment, it probably was.

**_4…_ **

_He returned the grip_. The world was crumbling into pieces. Oikawa's dreams were falling apart. The national athlete who won Best Setter in many tournaments is retiring because he is dying. The headlines were brutal but Iwaizumi made sure he was there in every broadcast, telling Oikawa that it didn't matter what they thought. He was there... always there.

**3…**

_His arms got numb from the pressure of his embrace._ _But he didn't let go._ Cancer takes away every last bit of the things you loved about the person. He heard someone say that--but it wasn't true. The sickness didn't take away anything he loved about Oikawa. It merely transformed him and it gave Iwaizumi all the more reason to love him.

_**2...** _

_He held his breath._ They said he'd get a year if he's lucky enough. He got two. He'd probably get three or more, because Oikawa swore to never leave Iwaizumi in peace. He'd annoy him for the rest of his life. And Iwaizumi doesn't really mind.

_**1…** _

"Marry me again,  _Tooru."_

**++++** _  
_

**Author's Note:**

> I have no other words but I'm sorry.


End file.
